“I’ll be careful,” Morgan promised. She dragged the board down the beach, the leash trailing behind her, and Alexa watched to make sure she fastened the strap around her ankle once she got there.

Alexa and Rebecca had just settled themselves in their chairs when they saw Morgan flip off her surfboard. They stood as a unit and started toward the water, but before they got there Morgan’s head popped out of a wave. Her board was bobbing beside her and she put one hand on it to steady it. She gave them the shaka sign, which Alexa took to be Surf-ish for I’m okay. They sat back down.

“Morgan is going to be all right,” Alexa told her mother. “She’s more resilient than we give her credit for.”

“You think so?”

“I know it. I’m positive.” The beach was starting to fill up; everybody wanted to get in one last day. “Mom?” said Alexa. “What do you think I should do about—” she couldn’t call him Dad, but Jacob seemed strange too. “About my father,” she said finally. She knew that Rebecca had been in touch with Jacob Thornhill to let him know about what happened the night of Cam’s accident and that Alexa needed some time. Rebecca had all of Jacob’s contact information for when (or if) Alexa was ready, and Alexa still had his card. “He didn’t seem terrible, you know. He seemed—nice. Sweet, even.”

“I believe it,” said Rebecca. “He wasn’t not nice. I loved him for good reasons, a long time ago. He meant well, even when he was sick. But he was really sick for a really long time.”

“So what should I do?”

Her mother’s eyes, behind her sunglasses, were inscrutable. “That’s up to you, Alexa. You’ll be eighteen soon. You’re in charge of your own destiny. No pun intended.”

“But should I call him, when I go out to L.A.? Should I see him?” (There had been talk of a Realtor, after all . . . and beyond that, maybe it would be nice to have a connection, starting out somewhere new. A family connection. Would it? Wouldn’t it?) Alexa watched a black Lab race toward the water after a ball. Dogs weren’t supposed to be on the beach at this time but the Lab looked so happy that Alexa hoped nobody said anything to the owner.

“I can’t decide that for you, Alexa. And even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to say. I mean, do I think you need to be careful, if you get in touch with him? Yes. Unequivocally, I do. I don’t want him to hurt you. Again. I guess I don’t want you to hope for too much.”

Alexa flexed her foot in the sand and examined her toenails. “Because maybe he hasn’t changed as much as he says he has.”

“Right.”